


his heart is weaker than his mind

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Butterflies, Confused Tony, How Do I Tag, Hurt Stephen Strange, Insecure Stephen Strange, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-05-13 17:29:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19255858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As much as Stephen hated to admit it, he was a fragile man.His brain might be running in league with the greatest geniuses on the planet, but his body was not.Perhaps having shaky hands and sprouting butterflies from his lips will tell him something.Perhaps a dead man walking will show him what went wrong.(Or: Stephen Strange is born naturally fragile, using wit, humor, and arrogance to protect himself. But when he started to sprout butterflies out of his mouth and gained dizzying headaches and flashbacks, he never understood why. It isn't a pleasant experience.)





	1. isn't it nice

**Author's Note:**

> oh fuck yeah, first fic baby  
> no beta we die like men  
> any advice, comments, bookmarks, and kudos is appreaciated  
> i dont know how to use ao3, this is literally one of the first serious fics i'm making uhhshsh  
> help me  
> i'm making the story as i go

Stephen disliked crying.

Crying was unnecessary. An action only prompted by the body to help remove hormones that are overbearing.

So why was he crying?

Crying as he watched the one sole man he thought he could understand collapse in the distance, half charred and looking more drained than ever before.

He watched as Tony's friends. His family. His son, all go to him and crowd around him as he muttered his final words. He longed to go there too. He longed to take a step and say goodbye to the man he fell in love with through the timelines.

But he couldn't. 

And he watched as the man's eyes turned glossy and dull, and watched as the young spider boy choke out a sob.

And closed his eyes as a blue butterfly peeled it way off his skin and fluttered away.

//

The funeral was dull.

It felt so quiet. So still. So infuriatingly guilt tripping.

He watched as Peter Parker, the boy that Stark spoke fondly of in many timelines, sobbed helplessly into his arms, his eyes squeezed shut and protecting himself from something he couldn't understand. He watched as Pepper Potts stood by idly, her face crushed and red and puffy. He watched as Rhodey, Happy, and all of Stark's friends and family and accomplices cry and mourn for him.

He felt his throat tighten because he was never Stark's friend or ally in this timeline.

He felt his eyes feel heavy but he held it in, listening to the soft lull of chirping and water, closing his eyes and listening to the people slowly, slowly, slowly trickle away.

Until it was only him, Peter, and Potts.

He was never one to feel compassion, but when Pepper turned to return to her cottage and saw him there, her gaze flashed from hatred, spite, anger, disgust, exhaustion, and then acceptance. 

She left without a word.

It almost made Stephen lose his control of his emotions, almost made him sob involuntarily, but he kept it in. He can't show weakness. Not now.

Him and Peter stood there for what felt like hours. Staring at the water where the wreath had floated away. Where the reminder of Tony Stark drifted off. Where his best friend in some timelines, enemy in others, and lover in many floated off never to be seen again.

It was close to afternoon when Peter finally broke his gaze away from the water and turned, only to blink in surprise at him being there. He allowed his eyes to search the boy's, and he felt so much emotion.

Sorrow. Grief. Regret. Denial. Depression. Confusion. Lost. Desperation. And what was the most surprising of all, determination.

He watched the kid break eye contact before walking slowly towards him..

and gliding right by.

It was as if the boy had no spirit left to talk, none of his jittery and overhyped body jumping and talking a mile per minute.

Just a shell. Just like him.

When the boy finally left, he let out the most emotion he had in years. 

He cried. He cried, and cried, and cried.

His eyes were brimmed red, his face was splotchy, his hands were shaking violently, he was on his knees.

He knew. But he didn't care.

Dignity was the least of his concerns as the mental things he owed Tony Stark flashed by, one after another, as butterfly by butterfly soared out of his suit and mouth and body.

He felt so alone.

As the sun dipped fully over the mountains, he stood. 

He shakily made a portal to the Sanctum, ignoring Wong and heading straight to the library, lifting books about rebirth, reliving, the cost of being risen.

For over seventeen hours. He studied.

He read every book. Every piece of text. Until he found it.

"An exchange, huh." Stephen said softly, turning the paper. "A life for a life, a binding of souls, or an exchange." He skimmed over the book, before finally finding it.

"Let it be known that if one were to raise the dead, the dead responds to nobody but magic. An exchange can prompt rebirth, such as a life for a life. Another is switching bodies and minds so that the subject's soul is in your body while yours is dead. A final method is sharing a burden. But know this: sharing is almost a solid hundred percent fatal to both parties, sickness spreading over both bodies until both die. Should one find a way to lower this chance, take it. -Kaisley, 1242"

He flipped forwards, but there was no more information to be found.

He sighed, and slid the book away, before lifting his pen and scribbling more notes to his paper.

'Idea/s:  
-use timestone,( likely leads to both parties dead and fatal to universe, no)  
-body swapping ( undesirable, least likely to be appreciated. no.)  
-death sharing ( 100% fatality, find way to lower even a bit to help. maybe.)'

He shook his head and coughed up another butterfly, before continuing his work.

It was 6:43am when he finally understood how to fix it all. 

He packed his book into his bag and felt the cloak secure itself onto his shoulders, and took off for the grave where Tony was buried, which was at the Stark residence in the woods. He teleported directly next to the coffin and sighed in relief, before opening his book to his bookmarked page and lifted his fingers.

Now or nothing. 

The simplest spells are the most dangerous, after all.

Gentle cyan runes were sketched into the air above the coffin, his fingers trembling more and more as the coffin began to shake softly. He lifted open the casket with one hand, his mouth still silently whispering the chant as the runes grew brighter against his palm. 

".. łëþ ț&÷řë bê łìfê" he finally breathed, pouring his energy into the words. 

The moment he finished, he felt excruciating pain zip up his right side and tightened his jaw, but didn't release his hold.

The pain grew.

Tears budded near his eyes but he refused to let them go as his spell strengthened and tied the energies together, slowly but surely finishing the spell and raising a man from the dead.

It was so painful. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. It hurt so bad, yet he couldn't let go for his own petty needs. 

Stark needs his family. Stephen had none.

And with that conclusion, he heard running behind him and a sharp gasp.

"What are you doing?" Pepper Potts exhaled, stopping behind Stephen. 

He didn't respond, if only to keep his concentration on Tony. He was so close.

"I let you attend his funeral because I thought you had an ounce of respect for him, but you're violating him. I'll ask again, what are you doing?" She breathed furiously, still not moving from her position.

He didn't respond.

"I swear to God i-"

The casket flashed cyan.

It hurt so much.


	2. he's back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things all go to plan.  
> a little too perfectly.

Stephen hated pain.

Not physical pain.

Emotional pain.

Physical pain he could deal with. He could die over a thousand times for all he cared, and he would still stand up and fight.

But play with his heartstrings enough?

You have the Sorcerer Supreme at your mercy. 

So Stephen gasped as the cyan light erupted and spilled out the casket vibrantly, flowers shaking and the lakewater rippling to and fro.

And collapsed to his knees as Peter Parker, who was staying in Pepper Pott's house, ran out and gave a choked yell.

Because in all laws of reality, the dead can't come to life.

But magic followed nobody's rules.

And it bowed its head to Stephen as he let his sharp blue eyes lift to see Tony, sitting upright, half charred.

But alive.

Nothing seemed to happen for a solid second.

And then Tony coughed. 

"Oh my God what the fuck Strange-" Pepper choked out, running towards Tony and gripping his shoulders tightly and staring into his brown, empty eyes.

Tony stared back, the reality of his situation not coming to him as quickly as it did Pepper.

"M-Mister Strange?" A soft, timid voice called out.

Strange could barely move his head, so he raised a hand to let him continue.

Peter Parker walked next to him and idly stared at Tony, his doe eyes wide and confused as Pepper continued to sob and as Stark continued to gaze lifelessly at her.

"W-will you be alright?" He asked.

Stephen looked up curiously, then suddenly realized.

Split the curse, split the damage.

Did that mean..?

He felt around his neck and right side, but felt no scarred mangled flesh. Confused, he looked at his hand.

Nothing.

No recoil. No damage. No nothing.

Confusion, then understanding.

If it isn't external.. it's internal, he thought.

And at that exact moment, he gagged.

"Holy sh- Mister Doctor are you okay??" Peter yelped, snapping out of his holy shit tony stark is alive to holy shit tony stark's savior is dying. 

Stephen coughed again, before feeling his stomach clench and something wriggle out of his throat into his mouth.

Being the sensible man he was, he opened his mouth.

And a beautiful blue butterfly fluttered its wings and flew away.

"Uh, is that supposed to happen?" Peter stuttered, as Strange stared at the creature flap away.

"No.." he began, before getting interrupted sharply.

"Hey Pete! Mind helping out here? I mean, i might not be earning any 'Survived Thanos' trophies, but hey, any help is appreciated!" Tony called out. Peter stood straight and jogged over to Tony as the sun finally cracked over the edge of the trees. 

Stephen sat there, pain still ricocheting around his right side as he closed his eyes and sighed. 

Tony Stark always managed to make everything a joke.

He heard the thumping of feet behind him and looked up to see none other than Captain America, the half formed Hulk, and Barnes slow to a stop as they stare at the hobbling Tony currently cursing wildly as he trips over his smoking foot.

Another thumping pair of feet behind him slowed to a stop as well, his eyes roaming over to reveal the Falcon, frozen in shock.

"..and oh for fucks sake, why is it that whenever I wake up, I always crave a cheeseburger? Like, is it a curse? A coping mechanism? A weird thing? Don't give me that look Pete, I know what you're thinking. 'Mister Stark you should be on a water and bagged food diet,' sorry kid but if you haven't heard, Stark men listen to nobody. And hey, is that Strange?" Tony's voice filtered into his ears as Stephen once again turned around to see a stumbling but quickly relearning Tony heading straight for his direction.

"I forgot to mention, Pete told me you apparently revived me? From the dead? Which I mean, sweet, great, amazing, but also kinda weird like, why me? Anyways, as common courtesy and proof I'm not a bastard," this received a punch from Peter, "thank you. Thanks a bunch. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to get some therapy. Ciao!" Stark said in a much too forced way, stumbling past Steve Rogers.

"Tony-" the super soldier began, but was cut off. 

"No words from you Stevie. We might've made up temporarily during the war but trust me, it'll take some time." Tony cut off. "As I mentioned before, therapy." 

The way things were going, Stephen was confused why he thought it would be a problem for Tony to come back alive.

He watched the past Rogue Avengers gape after Tony's dismissal, before they all blinked and seemed to accept this probability.

Probably to pester Stephen about and question what reality was anymore.

"I'll.. start the time machine." Bruce said quickly, returning to where all six stones sat quietly in a briefcase.

Bucky Barnes and Wilson joined him, until it was only Steve and Stephen.

Steve looked like he was about to say something, before deciding to say something else.

"How?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow.

"How what?" 

"How did you bring him back?"

Stephen blinked.

"Through complicated measures and a sacrifice."

Steve Rogers looked a bit troubled with that, before shaking his head.

"I won't ask."

He began to retreat to where the stones were, before turning around.

"Thank you, by the way."

The sorcerer yet again quirked his eyebrows in an amused expression unfitting for the situation.

"How so?"

"For bringing him back." 

And he left.

Stephen finally stood up, wincing as a flare of pain spiked up and slashed across his abdomen. 

For whatever reason, the drawback of the spell and the supposed damage wasn't killing him.

He was grateful, sure, but it was quite concerning to see something go perfect for once when it mattered. 

He made his way to the cabin and collapsed onto the rocking chair outdoors and passed out


	3. golden things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one very quick ptsd scene, (very quick,) and a perspective shift.

Stephen came to with a piercing headache and a sharp jolt to his system.

A pained groan left him as he saw himself inside of a hospital bed hooked up to IV dripping ever so slowly. 

It seemed like he was alone, before he heard violent cursing from outside the door and a sharp click of the handle before Christine Palmer walked in with Tony Stark on crutches.

"-is in a very fragile state, you both should be grateful you're alive, honestly. Stephen took most of the damage, adding to the reason why you had, for whatever reason, survived the ordeal of being raised from the dead after about three days. So- Stephen you're awake!" Christine abruptly stopped her listing as she ran over to his side and checked his vitals, Tony slowly moving closer.

"What's up, doc." Tony snarked.

"Doubt I'll be a doctor if I have to raise you from the dead again." Stephen shot back, as a sudden ache rippled down his body.

"Then don't asshole." His eyes softened a fraction, patting his arm. "Welcome back."

Stephen narrowed his eyes. "Welcome back? How long was I out to get such a response from Tony Stark?" He asked, as Christine finally pulled away from the machine hooked up to his body. 

"Stephen.. you've been out for three weeks while your vitals were dropping dangerously low."

A pause filled the air.

"..did someone take care of the cloak while I was out?"

//

Stephen glided (hobbled? galloped? walked?) through the portal, his crutches helpfully stabbing into his armpits as he fumbled shakily with his sling ring.

The moment he entered the Sanctum, a red blur zipped out of the corner with familiar muffled cursing bursting behind it. He was tackled from his support, letting out a yelp as the Cloak of Levitation snapped his arms to his side and hovered him above the ground, tightly hugging the sorcerer. His crutches clattered to the floor. 

"-for fucks sake. Stephen, what the fuck were you thinking?" Wong yelled, stepping into the room with an angry face.

"You go ahead and revive the dead, manage not to die of all things, get knocked out for three weeks straight, and come back without telling me first?" He stormed over to his incapitated body, glaring at the slowly-running-out-of-oxygen Sorcerer Supreme.

"I mean.. I had a lot going on." Stephen said dryly, the cloak having tightened its bear hug.

Wong rolled his eyes, before pulling him into another air crushing hug.

"Welcome back, Stephen," Wong said affectionately, patting his head before turning tail and leaving. The cloak then decided to drop Stephen, leaving the sorcerer on the floor groaning as he grasped aimlessly for his crutches.

"For fucks sake.." he groaned tiredly, pulling himself upright and clacking his way to his room in the Sanctum, collapsing onto the bed and sighing deeply. He fished out his medication for the day and placed them onto the bedside table, lowering the lights and letting the cloak deliver his sleeping clothes.

At least he wasn't in pain.

The moment he thought of it, he gagged and choked. The cloak whirled around in a panic and wrapped itself around him quickly, yanking his stomach.

Yet another vibrantly cyan butterfly left his mouth and fluttered gently out the window.

//

Tony Stark was not one for waking up. 

So when a butterfly landed on his nose, it somehow effectively woke him up. 

He shot upright at the touch, the light feathery feeling suddenly feeling like a pressure, the Civil War spiraling all over his brain.

It had been long enough.

Why did it still affect him?

He groaned for a bit, before the goddamn butterfly vibrated a soft orange and landed on his shoulder. 

It turned gold.

"What the fuck.. am I drunk?" Tony mumbled, the butterfly radiating something- no, some emotion.

Was the goddamn bug telling his to sleep?

Apparently yes, because it butted its lightweight head against his chest as if trying to push him asleep.

"Goddamn, I'm drunk.." he grumbled, lying back down.

Sleep poured over him as if the butterfly was a waterfall, effectively clearing his mind slate.

It was a quiet night.

//

Stephen woke up feeling oddly heavy in the chest.

He looked down to see the cloak draped on him like a blanket, and looked at his clock.

11:14 am.

He slept in.

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he turned over and rolled off the bed onto his feet, slowly cracking his neck before washing up.

He felt different.

And he didn't understand why. He took his pills and left the washroom, sleepily stumbling out of his rooms into Wong.

"Stephen! You're finally awake. It's around lunchtime, but you can get breakfast if you want." Wong said, carrying his books carefully to pat him on the shoulder before leaving for the library.

Stephen blinked, before shaking his head and going to the kitchens.

His stomach rolled uncomfortably and his mind hurt to think.

Everything was sore, which was to be expected, but it wasn't sore in the right places.

"Hello Stephen. I didn't see you at breakfast today, sleep in a bit?" The cook asked, flipping what appeared to be fried rice.

He nodded blearily. "I was wondering if you could make me some breakfast?" He asked politely, sitting down at a table inside the kitchen.

The cook nodded. "On it." They replied. Stephen turned away and sighed.

Yet again his throat tightened and he coughed, this time a golden butterfly flew out, landing on his long, scarred fingers.

It was oddly beautiful. 

The cook gave him a plate of food, the scent of fried rice and vegetables filling the air heavenly.

"Enjoy!" The cook said, turning around to flip their pan of food.

Stephen took the plate and sat on the outside benches, trying to shake the butterfly off his fingers.

It stayed. 

It seemed to emit some type of.. emotion?

He felt a strong feeling of pain wash over him, but not on the body. 

In his.. soul?

The butterfly fluttered away.


	4. butterknives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a basic description of his illness, as well as a glimpse into how tony's relationship with pepper is. spoiler alert: painful for stephen

"So you're saying I have a.. illness?" Stephen asks, Wong flipping through various texts and setting them aside.

"Yes. it seems that when you used the time stone to see the future possibilities, you- ah." 

Wong raised an eyebrow at his book.

"-fell in love." 

Stephen felt his heart stutter ever so quickly.

"In love? How?" Stephen asks, trying desperately to hide any form of acknowledgement.

"You must've experienced a fondness for a person during your walk through timelines, meaning they were with you through all of that." Wong sighed, turning another page. 

They sat in silence, before Stephen piped up.

"So.. do you know the name of the curse?" He asks cautiously.

"No. The disease is unnamed. But it seems somewhat similar to the Hanahaki disease from what I read." Wong says. "Apparently, the other person must love you back. Or you can take a 12% success rate magical surgery to erase the disease and the feelings." He sighed. "It seems in this case, the butterflies will also phase through your skin as well. The text says you will either suffocate and die or the butterflies will eventually 'rip itself out of your skin when your desire for the other person is extremely strong or when you witness the other person showing romantic love to another.'"

Dead silence yet again sat in the room uncomfortably, Stephen desperately wishing to leave.

Wong cleared his throat.

"So, from your shifty gaze, who is it?" He asked, leaning forward.

Stephen leaned back in turn, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't know." He said, voice quivering slightly at the last word.

Wong raised an eyebrow yet again.

"Look Stephen, the multiverse needs the Sorcerer Supreme to keep it in check. We can't have you die due to some butter-"

Stephen winced as a butterfly flitted through his palm painlessly, the sudden appearance causing him to close his eyes tightly.

"-flies. Like that. See, what if the butterflies suck up your magic while you're spell casting? Or it accidentally puts the entire universe at peril?" Wong shakes his head, exasperated.

"Honestly Stephen, I don't care about your love life." He stands up. "Just- take care of it as soon as you can." He says, sliding the books away as he leaves the library.

Stephen feels his heart slowly calm down, before sighing.

How was he supposed to tell Tony Stark, engaged to Pepper Potts, that he loved him?

//

He was just taking a walk to help him think when it happened. 

It was a Sunday. Two days after his conversation with Wong, and two days after his last thought of how to tell Tony he loved him.

Needless to say, it was nice to not think of love at all if not for the goddamn butterflies reminding him of his eventual fate.

The sun shined an uncomfortable gold, tempting him to just relax and take a day off. But he couldn't with his illness causing restlessness, the constant feeling of something phasing through his skin understandably making him want some air. But today was.. positive.

Too positive.

The universe never gives away positive things for free.

So Stephen left the Sanctum with a grey shirt and jeans plus the cloak as a scarf, wary and suspicious, but eventually he simply let his guard down and relaxed.

There was nothing eventful or terrible occuring during his walk, so the decided to call it a day and head back.

But of course he had jinxed himself.

Because in front of him, he saw two very specific people simply sitting on the park bench talking and giving eachother small pecks on the lips.

Tony Stark lovingly and almost clingily held on to an exhausted strained Pepper Potts (or was it Stark? The wedding didn't occur yet,) who was returning the affection.

".. come on, Pep, I'm fine see? After all, I'm Tony. I survive anything, no matter the outcome," said Tony, as if trying to convince his fiance.

Stephen hadn't meant to draw so near, but his legs simply took him to Tony, brain refusing to turn away from him. So he simply sat down at a tree a couple of steps away facing away, and pulled out a textbook from a pocket dimension.

And he listened.

"I understand, but you're still recovering. How you came out of being dead so healthy is beyond me, but look at you. You still have dark ashy scars along your right side, and your arm and leg doesn't work correctly. Even for me, this is a bit much." Pepper argued back. But Tony simply leaned in and pecked her on the cheek.

"Pep, listen to me. I'm fine. I'll retire, I won't die, and I won't leave you. Or Morgan. Ever." Tony said, brown eyes begging Pepper.

The strawberry blonde hesitated. She stayed quiet for a long while, before she finally responded.

"Alright." Was the simple answer she gave. "One more chance." 

And as Stephen was about to leave, throwing the words they shared away into a mental garbage disposal, he turned to see the two lovingly kissing, not too differently from when Stephen has taken Tony away from Pepper. 

As he felt his heart wrench in heartache, a blinding pain shot up his arm as a tear in his skin formed, a bloody gold butterfly flying away, as another rip formed on his other arm.

Pain blinded his vision as he stumbled away from the couple, blood gushing out of his wounds as more and more butterflies tore themselves away from him. The cloak frantically tried to cover the first wound, but with no avail for more had started pushing through.

His heart hurt more than his body.

He hastily hid behind a tree and formed a rough portal, pain hindering his movements as he stumbled into the Sanctum and cut off the portal. Blood splattered onto the wood flooring as he coughed and threw up a multitude of butterflies, the multicolored insects flying around the Sanctum before ecentually flying out the windows. 

He called out weakly. He would die from blood-loss if he didn't have help. "Wong? Wong are you here?" 

Nobody responded. 

And as his consciousness faded away like a dream, he felt yet again, like the multiverse had decided he was on their bad list and that he was all alone. 

Dormammu made him feel pain.

But Tony Stark.. he gives him emotional pain.

He would take dying thousands to thousands of times over and over than loving a man who was already engaged.

"Cloak.." he said weakly. "Find Wong-"

and he passed out.

//

He woke up in his room.

At first he couldn't recognize it, blindly flailing in his bed as he finally realized what had happened. 

He breathed out, flexing his hand as the tears and gashes from the butterflies marring his arms and legs looked stitched. Perfectly, meaning magic.

Wong walked in and closed the door, neatly locking it. He turned to Stephen and raised an eyebrow. 

"Explain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont worry, the endgame is ironstrange. just needed a reason to literally make stephen be all the "ouch"


End file.
